Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1887-08-27

above temptation now as ever. But one
morning he read what he had been look
ing for for two long weary months The
prize story had been decided upon; thean-
nouncement would appear on the morrow;
the prize check was even now in the post
office tor the fortunate winner and his
name would appear in the morning pa
pers. He was instantly aroused in all his
pride of manhood and success, he was so
sure his waiting had not been in vain. He
rushed home to prepare Elsie for the great
good fortune. A pang like an arrow
wound shot through her heart as she saw
him. She had at last observed how frail
ne was. His eyes were terribly bright:
their blue fires burned with high excite
ment. His cheeks, wan and slim, were
flushed with a hectic glow which told too
plainly of their undue fever She paused
IN her work after he had left her to won
der vaguely if he could last long to enjoy
his success after the hard buffet with the
winter he had had She did not dream
how hard it had really been.
In a certain richly-appointed room in
that city three gentlemen had sat over
wine and cigars and business the night
before ut dusk. They were the Judges of
the merits of the manuscript submitted
to the Summer Magazine in competition
for the prize. All Of the other 500 man
uscripts had been returned with thanks
to their waiting authors, but two re-
manned to be decided upon. OF these
two, two of the judges preferred one
story and one Of them hung upon the
other They smoked, and laughed, and
talked; and smoked and laughed again
as careless as if nothing more important
than public gratiied depended upon
their decision. But the two gentlemen
in favor of the one story, after hesitating
and debating the effect it might have
upon the public mind, decided at last
that it was a good article, but after all
the editor Of the Magazine was right and
they had best agree upon the other. So it
was laid aside, the envelopes containing
the authors names were examined, the
check made out and mailed to the winner,
and the other story was sent back to the
writer. How very near it was to a grand
crisis in one mans life
And now at the postofiice two men stood
at the transom. Neither waited the let
ter-carrier. One of these, spry young
fellow, 4 student who had finished his ed
ucation at Duessledorf, and who had no
cares but for gambling debts, who wore fine
clothes and jewelry in guady display
who smelled of opium and hairdye; who
came from an opium den and was on his
way to corner saloon, waited at the tran
som for his mail. A letter was given to
him, a smooth white letter with the seal
of the great publishing house upon it.
He took it with noncholant air. This
was not the first time he had received such
letters; his was not the very first soul
wrung effort, and he was not writing for the
life of loved onnes. So he sauntered out,
he won the big prize; he told it as he
went, and he called some fellow associates
about him in a maudlin voice of delight,
which meant to them rare treat of wine
and liquors.
How did you do it Brent ?" some one
asked him.
Why at the palace, of course" he
laughed, "while | dreamed away the de-
licious moments on madame's silken couch"
\ loud laugh from the rest-those careless
ones on the way to the lost woodland the
crown passed out OF SlgnI.
The other man at the office, that crea-
ture with the pallid face grew cold as the
marble floor upon which he stood His
| nerveless hand reached out for the roll of
manuscript which the clerk held but he
did not look at it, He turned as he had
entered, without word and was soon lost
in the palpitating crowd of the streets.
He wandered on and his heart shriveled
up and burned TO ashes within him. He
truely looked as he felt, as old and dwarfed
as mummy. He wondered if those num-
mics at the dime museums had been con-
sumed by such horrors as this disappoint-
ment before they came to look as they did,
and he passed aimlessly on, clutching the
roll of paper as he wtnt-that broken
chain that linked him to life He did not
know if it was grand production :;
he did not care. 1t had not brought
bread to the loved ones. That was
his horror, his ashes of hope. He
must return to that home empty
handed. He entered the saloon where
the gay crowd of Lotharios were drinking.
Would he drink? Elsies husband would
not, but he, he was an old, old man
now, with life's fires burning low 1t
mattered not now. Yes; he must take
something to strengthen himself for that
last ordeal, the meeting with her, witness
ing her contempt for his failure. He
would see it all He laughed merrily In
the very presence of the prize winner and
drank. And at last when he dragged HIM
self away, out into the keen March winds,
that shrieked around every lamp-post,
down the Understanding pavements and
up to that door which closed between him
and judgment, he fell. He sank down at
the door of Elsie's room; he heard the
happy voices of his children inside heard
his wife's fretful complaining; and, then,
with last effort he pushed the door OPEN
She saw him, saw the roll of manuscript
first, then saw the stream of blood oozing
from his lips.
81 have done my best, Elsie" he whis-
pered when she had quietly helped him to
the bed. a have done my best-but-I
have failed, Let the children kiss me,
Elsie-and-forgiye, forgive"
Three little graves in the potter's field
tell of the three little curly heads beneath,
three little victims of diphtheria contracted
from seeds sOwn in squalid poverty
And childless widow is sometimes taken
in by the servants hall to do plain sewing
for families among whom Elsie's husband
found and welded her. And she-why
she has the blood-stained manuscript of a
simple life tale, so cold and out of time
that no publisher would think of accept
ing, though it SO nearly reached grand
mission.-E. S. Grant.
Wonderful Armless Man.
Recently there died at Potsdam. n Y